


Demon of the Hills

by TheKiwiBird



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Broken Club AU, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-07-20 05:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16130426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKiwiBird/pseuds/TheKiwiBird
Summary: Deep in the hills of County Bray, there was a great tale of a horrible demon. Many said it was a tale to scare children into obedience. One boy would be brave enough to learn it wasn't.





	1. Brave Little Daredevil

“Dey said a great demon lived’n dese hills.”

A scrawny little boy crossed his arms and looked out to his friends, unaware of the unseen attention he had garnered from a cave out of his sight.

“Ah don't see one. D’grown-ups lied.”

“If dere’s nuthin’ t’fear, Lil’ Fergie, den you go up dere’n find out!”

The small child looked back at the other boisterous boy, a head and a half taller than him. 

“Fine, y’chicken!” And off the pint-sized daredevil went, climbing the hill with determination. 

The eyes in the dark followed, praying for his safe climb. This one was brave, foolhardy and brave. He was coming to visit, as well...oh, what a delight!

His legions of shades dwelling in the trees felt the demon’s beckoning to lead the boy along the deep and winding path to his prison, the calcified remains of his essence sheltered deep within the earth, deep within these Irish hills he had come to stare at for eons. 

The tiny one seemed frightened to come down into the darkness, but his body continued carrying him down, unhindered by such emotions. 

The demon had to see this child face to...well, what could best be called a face. His young soul illuminated the walls; so strong, so pure, so…

It wasn't long before the small boy found himself staring into a barely lit cavern, unsure of how he managed to be safe.

He cupped his mouth and cried out. “‘Ello…? Hill demon? You dere?”

Did he not fear him? Had they not spoken of the hazards of evoking the great Demon King?!

“Wish I brought m’torch…”

The boy's soul was so bright, if only it could be harnessed to illuminate this whole grave…

Just how could he reach out and respond?

Legions of little shadelings whispered into his wavelengths, giggling at their own schemes. They volunteered to speak for him, speak loudly to the boy so he could hear.

With a soft, playfully deceitful tone, the legions spoke around the room in surround sound: _Who dares disturb my slumber…?_

The humans loved to use that line in their tales with all the great and formidable entombed creatures, why not make a bold first impression himself?

“I-I-I-I DO! Mister...demon…sir…”

The shadelings laughed amongst themselves, sending a ripple a fear through the boy's frame. 

_What d’y’call yerself, lad?_

“Fer-Fergal. M’name’s Fergal, sir. Fergal Devitt.”

_What an old name. Ah hear whispers from above, all sorts’a names. Don't’ear too many old ones anymore…_

“M-My friends say it’s a granddad name.”

The demon felt confused. _‘Tis how friends’re now…?_

“Ah don’t have too many friends…” Fergal grabbed his arm, hanging his head. The demon found the poor child quaintly sympathetic.

_Why’s t’at? You are brave, yer soul’s bright, ‘nd yer polite._

“I...I’m strange. Ah like strange d’ings.”

_T’ere’s nuttin’ wrong wit’liking strange t’ings…_

The legions of shades giggled, spooking the child once more. The demon ordered them to stop, and they fell silent.

_Ah like strange humans. T’ey keep t’ings int’restin’._

The little boy smiled, relaxing his stance a bit.

Spotting a discarded flashlight nearby, the demon ordered it be rolled to Fergal so he could see. The shades slowly inched it along silently, making the boy jump as they bopped the side of his sneaker with the end of it.

_A gift fer my strange lil’ human…_

Fergal examined it, shaking it to check for its contents. Turning it on, the light seemed dim to the demon compared to the boy's soul, still.

Fergal naturally observed his surroundings, and once he could see the outlines of the demon’s calcified prison, he gasped.

“Is dat...an eye…?”

The legions laughed for him. _Yes, lil’ Fergal, t’at’s my eye. When I roamed t’land many moons ago, I could see everyt’in’ around, into t’heavens…_

“Why’re you here, den?”

_Well...I was wit’a very bad brot’er...haven't seen’m since t’ey put me here…_

The demon chuckled.

_T’ey called’m strange, too...didn't like ‘is place in t’peckin’ oder’f it all._

The demon reached out to glean from the boy what he could of his emotions, his thoughts. It wasn't permissible to do so, but a little prying wouldn't hurt if he wanted to get a bit personal…

_T’ey say mean t’ings about how small y’are, don't t’ey?_

Fergal didn't respond.

_Yer soul shines brighter t’an all of t’eirs, remember t’at. It's bigger’n’brighter t’an all t’eirs put toget’er. And I'm an expert on human souls…_

“Well...you can't have mine!” Fergal glared. “I'm a good boy, and I'm gonna go to Heaven when I die, so I need it t’be with my family!”

The declaration rattled the demon. A child thinking so fondly of death and beyond...somehow suited his daredevil demeanor too well. He was far too young to snuff his great light out, or to even think about such a thing.

_Oi, Fergal, if I wanted it, ah would just take it. You're in my prison, among my legions, and ah could just pluck it right outta ya if ah wanted…_

“But ya won't.”

_Ah have no desire t’do so. Wouldn't know what t’do wit’it. Does me no good here._

“Oi! Fergie~”

The cry from above echoed through the caves, pulling the boy’s attention.

_‘Tis yer friends t’ere, yeah?_

“That’s Billy.”

_Want me t’teach t’em a lesson about not teasin’ ya?_

“Don't hurt dem, please.”

_Oh, it'll be just a little harmless joke...make’m jump a little._

“A’ight…”

\-----

“Oi, lil’ Fergie fell down, boys!” Billy, standing tall amongst the rest, laughed, encouraging the others to laugh. “Let’s help’m back up, shall we?”

The prone figure in the dim light and cover lied curled up in waiting, having given the illusion of being the small boy half a mile down below it. Several dozen shades, all working in unison, waiting for the trio to arrive in range.

One of the other boys grabbed a stick, and poked at the prone figure, getting no response.

“Billy…?”

“Oi, come off it, Fergie! Quit kiddin’round!”

The other boy poked again, alerting the shade to look upwards. In lieu of a normal face, the ink-black skin bore a single large eye in the center of its forehead, and a wide gaping maw filled with razor sharp teeth, starting from halfway down its ‘face’ to halfway down its chest.

Shrieks of terror echoed down into the caves as the shadeling cluster struck, it's skin turning black, limbs growing sharper, longer, more terrifying. It lunged out, a long slimy tongue snapping out like a whip to seize the largest boy’s ankle as he fled.

\-----

All the while, the young boy couldn't help but giggle.

_Oi, Fergal, t’ain’t good t’laugh at what I'm doin’. T’ey’re right terrified!_

“Never heard’m so scared…’s funny!”

_Mayhaps y’aren’t as good of a boy as y’said y’are…_

The demon chuckled, and his legions joined him, the amusement rebounding off of every wall.

_Y’like a lil’ mischief, eh? Ah think we will be good friends...if you promise t’visit me again._

The young boy lit up. “I'll come back tomorrow!”

The demon’s being shuddered with...something it had not felt in a long time: excitement.

_Would y’come closer t’me, lad?_

The boy stepped forwards, but not as close as the demon wanted.

_A bit closer, yeah?_

Several more steps forward, but not close enough. The demon’s reach was limited even within his prison, and it pained him to have to ask the boy to approach his shell so closely.

_Up t’my eye...please._

The boy approached, touching the calcified structure with his empty hand. 

It was strange; the demon hadn’t felt a gentle placement of skin upon his shell before, and yet, it felt warm and very much like home. Perhaps it was the light behind it…?

The demon shook the thought from its mind and siphoned the tiniest sliver of the light, a fragment that not even St. Peter himself could detect was missing, smiling all the while.

_Yes, ah can feel y’now. Ah know yer soul well now. I’ll find you wherever y’go on t’is island now. Ah can’t wait fer tomorrow, Fergal._

“Me too!” He smiled, then looked around. “But how do I get out?”

_Close yer eyes‘n’I will guide ya, lad._

The boy slammed his eyelids shut, clamping them tightly. The demon used the sliver to temporarily take hold of the boy’s body, moving him in the proper direction while his legions assisted him in guiding the boy out.

The demon sat silently within its prison, coiling its being around the soul shard, cherishing it, waiting silently for the rest of it to return.


	2. Worldly Little Dreamer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Demon King comes to learn all his little human's quirks, and his big dream.

It was midday by the time Fergal arrived, dressed in a school uniform, carrying a large backpack and toting the flashlight the demon had gifted him.

“Hello, Mr. Demon!”

The legions giggled, making Fergal giggle as well. 

_Well met, Fergal. I’m surprised y’came back._

Fergal stopped in the middle of the room, sitting down. “Ah said I would!”

_...Ya bring me t’ings, too? Offerin’s? Inna colourful sack, too!_

“Oh no, it's just m’bookbag fer school. But ah did bring ya somethin’!”

Setting the flashlight down, pointing upwards, he removed the bag and began rummaging through it, removing many books and several magazines, as well as a metal tin decorated with some sort of logo that the demon didn't quite understand.

“Ah brought’ya some books of mine dat ah like but...well, y’said y’like strange…”

_Yes...show me yer strange t’ings…_

Fergal held up the magazine, displaying a white-blonde haired man in a bright red robe, looking very much like some type of nobility. He’d need a moment to decode the words; though it was simple to speak a foreign language, it wasn’t quite that easy to read in it.

_‘Tis t’at a book about nobles?_

The boy laughed. “Ah, no, but lookin’ at Mr. Flair, ah guess y’could get confused...but he’s wrestlin’ royalty!”

_Oh, now? Go on…_

“He’s a world-class champion! He’s got a fancy title, and he travels the world defending it from all types, even in Japan!”

The Demon vaguely knew what Japan was; wasn’t it far away from where they were? It was probably a lot different since the last time he saw it.

“I thought for sure he was gonna lose to The Great Muta, but Mr. Flair always wins! He’s pretty sly like a fox…”

_He sounds very crafty…_

The Demon felt a flutter of excitement in his being; something twinkled in the air that he couldn’t quite identify…

“One day I wanna be big and strong and be like Mr. Flair!”

_Oh, you’d like to be a champion, would ya?_

“Yeah!”

_Travel to Japan to be a great fighter, would ya?_

“To Japan, America, the rest of Europe...all over the world!”

Oh, that’s what the feeling was…

**OPPORTUNITY.**

_Well, I could help y’get there…_

Fergal’s face lit up. “You could?”

_Why don’t we start right now? Ah could go wit’ya, just say t’word._

Fergal gave The Demon a look. “...I’m only ten.”

_Oh, a great warrior could be young…_

“I’m too young to train at a wrestling school, and my mum wouldn’t let me travel to fight anyways. I’m still too little.”

_...Why not? They don’t let boys your age go out and fight anymore?_

“Not anymore, no.”

_Ach, what a waste._

Fergal giggled. “I gotta go to regular school first.” 

The young boy then flipped through the magazine in hand, showing off page after page, going into great detail about each colorful, large man on the page. A few men from a place he called “Japan” didn’t see quite as gigantic, and he seemed to admire them even more than the not-nobleman from the cover.

It piqued the Demon’s interest.

_Y’like t’ese Jap’nese blokes a bit, yeh?_

“Dey're amazin’! Riki Choshu, when he fought Ric Flair, dat was t’rillin’! An’, an’! Jushin T’under Liger! If y’like fancy outfits, he wears a whole costume wid’a mask ev’ryding, like Tiger Mask!”

The boy’s soul shimmered and fluttered like a hummingbird’s iridescent wings as he talked so warmly of these men he’d only ever seen in a field of battle.

“An’d’Great Muta! OHHHHH HE DOES GREEN MIST’N’BLINDS HIS ENEMY! AN’E’AS TH’KANJI PAINTED ON’IS FACE!”

_T’ese warriors…’tis truly yer desire’t’do what t’ey do when you’re able t’leave'ome…?_

“Yes! Yes.” Fergal smiled. “...Mr. Demon, d’you have a desire?”

What a quaint question the Demon had never been asked. He'd never really wanted anything before...well, before he’d been unceremoniously dumped in this crater…

_I want t’see t’world, like y’do. If I'm honest, and I am, a bit’a’fightin’ would do me some good, too._

Fergal’s eyes lit up. “We can travel together! Go t’Japan and meet all d’wrestlers’n’mebbe even fight a few, like a tag team!”

An almost alien feeling filled the demon, something stronger than the excitement he had felt the day before. Like a worn blanket unearthed from the attic, it was something that time had erased completely from memory until this moment. Something he missed dearly.

_**Being wanted.** _

This little human child wanted him to be there with him. How exhilarating. Maybe he didn't have to coerce him after all…

_I would do anyt’in’t’join y’on yer journey, my favorite lil’ human._

A bright smile filled the boy’s features, and the demon chuckled.

_D’ya’ave anyt’in’ else t’show me in t’at bag t’ere?_

Fergal knelt down and pulled out a tin lunchbox, revealing a cache of brightly colored blocks. “Ah brought m’Legos.”

_What do t’ey do…?_

“You build t’ings wid’em. I built a pirate ship, a rocket, and a house! Look!”

He delicately shifted some of the mounds, and he proudly displayed many different objects he had crafted from the blocks.

_Ah, quite crafty...show me how t’ey work...build me a world..._


	3. Kakurenbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Legion seeks out the location of their hidden Prince in order to retrieve him. The harder part, however, is getting him to come along.

Fergal did not return the next day, and the Demon King felt an old set of feelings creep through his essence. Rejection. Coldness. Emptiness. 

It was then he remembered the tiny sliver of the boy's soul he cradled in his vastness, and pondered on how to utilize its power to find him.

He’d never encountered the soul of a human so young and strong before, and even still he had never used a soul shard to contact a human; the only thing he'd ever done with one was to control the boy's movements several days prior. 

But he couldn't do much from far away; he sensed that the nearby village was where the boy resided, but even that was too far away for him to reach out. 

He could hardly lurch from his prison inside the very crater he was entombed in, for goodness’ sake! 

No, he couldn't, but…

He pushed the boy’s soul shard to the forefront, where all his shadelings could feel it.

_Go to that village at the bottom of the hills. Find this boy. Tell me when you find him. Go!_

And like a wave of locusts, skirting through the winds, legions of minuscule shadow-borne imps flew from the caves, rapidly pouring down the mountainside, hitting the town limits and dispersing like buckshot, all to find one human child. Scampering from home to home, darting down alleyways and streets in the dark of night, unhampered by the harsh sunlight, they searched for the faintest hint of a spark that even vaguely resembled the shard of essence their King held so tightly in his grasp with such reverence.

A small home caught the attention of a small pack of scouts, and in they dove through an open window. The young boy their King ardently sought after lied still in slumber, as humans tended to do while the sun hid behind the moon. Several stood firmly as they sent one scout back to inform their King of their findings.

When the news finally hit the Demon King’s ears, his anxiety melted away.

_He is well...let him rest. But stay with him. Put up a beacon so my eye can follow._

The scout flew back with their new instructions, and the Demon King called back his legions. Several came back much later, giggling and reveling in their mischief they had made en route to their roost.

All was well.

 

\-----

 

“My King...there is a barrier!”

The scout quivered in terror as the sun had barely peaked over the hills.

_What kind of barrier?_

“A sanctified barrier around where the boy went!”

The Demon King felt a pang of disappointment; if he could leave his body, this would not be a problem…

_Hold your position. He can't stay there forever…_

It was an agonizing wait; the Demon King had been only been waiting for the emerging of his little human for a few hours, but it somehow had felt longer than the eons he had sat waiting in exile to meet him.

_...call out to him…_

The shadelings had a better plan. Coalescing in the shadow of a nearby tree, they formed an illusory body, a hooded figure wearing similar attire to Fergal's school uniform.

As Fergal began to pass, the small legion called out.

“Will you be coming to visit our King today?”

The young boy jumped and turned around, crying the small legion to move the illusion forward.

Fergal shook slightly. “N-no, ah can't…”

“Come play with us, boy…”

“Ah have schoolwork t'do.”

“Fergal!” An unfamiliar female voice cried out, drawing their attention. “Dear, over’ere!”

“Ma!” Fergal waved back, waving back. The woman who had called out to both of them walked over.

“Ah, Fergal! Who’s yer friend’ere?”

“Oh, uh…” He looked to the legion, which only looked up to the woman and grinned slyly, then looked back to Fergal. “Dis’s my new friend I told ya about!”

She gave the legion a worried look. “Oh, I see. The Demon King, aye?” She looked the legion over.

“Well, not really. Dis’s one’f ‘is friends! Dey’re comin’ down from d’ills t’ask if I can come play today. I told’em no, though!”

“Aye, good boy. Now come, dinner’s gettin’ cold.” The woman reached out her hand towards the boy, swiftly snatching it as it was given and half-dragging him away.

The Demon King was less than pleased.

The Legion was ordered to stay out of sight around the house, waiting for him to leave that woman’s sight.

The next day, she took him to a place they could not follow; the ground around the priory was sanctified a mile or so around it. They sat and waited patiently, they didn't even leave that day. Three whole days.

He was not very patient.

But the boy seemed distant, even when out of reach of his mother. He spotted the legion waiting under a tree, and with eyes wide as saucers, charged back. They fled before it could get worse for them...or even for him.

The Demon King grew more and more impatient, desperate, as the days went by.

He needed that contact with that little human more than he cared to admit.

He missed that bright spark.

That...that woman had ruined everything, she needed to pay…

...but he was just a child, children needed mothers, right? He had forgotten how that worked, but he was certain that if...he gave her what she deserved, he would be far worse off.

He needed to be patient. He had the time to wait.


End file.
